“Do you still want some bread?” he asked before I could form any words. Was that a trick question? I nodded, even as I frowned in confusion. He waved for me to follow and we strode down the new street until he found a stall with flatbread. “Is this okay?” he asked, and again I nodded, shocked into silence by the strange treatment. No one asked a slave what they wanted.
I took a step back at that thought. I was not and never would be his slave. Now that my hands were free, I should run. But I stood fixed in place by his offer of food.
She’s scared,he thought as he purchased the bread, staring at me. Accepting two loaves, he stepped back up to me. “You’re scared,” he commented, just as I was debating if I should run now or wait until his back was turned.
“No, I’m not,” I retorted. I was terrified.
Yes, you are.“Yes, you are.” It set me off balance.
He held one of the loaves of bread out to me silently.
“You don’t have to do that.” I didn’t take it. Accepting bread from him felt like accepting that he owned me, which I would never do. My father always said my pride would be my downfall. It just irked me that this boy was so cocky. Who was he anyway? Was he one of the princes? He couldn’t be. I would’ve met him in previous courtship tours if he was.
“A simple thank you will do.” He smiled as he took my hand, flipping it over so he could place the bread in my palm. My fingers curled over it as if they had a will of their own. He stepped back, crossing his arms and tapping a finger as if to emphasize that he’d wait.
“Thank you,” I ground out. It came with difficulty. I hated being told what to do.
“You’re very welcome,” he said. If I hadn’t been so annoyed at him, I would’ve laughed. Instead, I scowled and crossed my arms. As I did, the bread got in the way and I stopped mid-movement, giving up all thoughts of making a stand, to bring it to my mouth instead. Taking an enormous bite, I closed my eyes and groaned in happiness.
“That’s not very civilized,” he taunted. I responded by stuffing an even bigger bite in my mouth before I’d finished the first. “So,” he said when I didn’t reply. “What’s your name?”
My mouth was full to the brim. My court advisor would be ashamed of my poor manners. I garbled around the mouthful of bread, “I’m not going to tell you my name. It’s none of your concern.”
“Well at least give me a nickname or something. Otherwise I’ll have to give you one. I’m thinking I’ll probably go with ‘Bread Girl.’ Or maybe ‘Starving Sister.’ Or–”
“Arie!” I interrupted, swallowing the enormous bite. He cocked his head, unable to understand what I’d said. “Just call me Arie,” I repeated once I’d swallowed.
I took a more modest bite. He was ruining my meal. But I was too busy chewing to worry about where to go next. And I had to admit, if only to myself, that I felt a little safer with him nearby. Just the thought irritated me. I needed to learn how to protect myself. Maybe I could learn to carry a walking staff.
I was still mulling that over when he disrupted my thoughts. “I’m Kadin. But you can call me Your Highness.”
I jolted. Had I been wrong? Was I speaking to another royal all this time? His clothes did seem rather rich. But one glance at his face revealed he was joking. I raised a brow and took another bite.
“Kadin,” I began, trying to think of a diplomatic way to tell him I wasn’t going anywhere with him.
“You mean Your Royal Highness Majesty Kadin,” he corrected me.
“I definitely don’t,” I replied. “That’s not even right.” I stopped myself from adding anything further. Why would a village girl know or care about exact titles? He raised a thick, dark brow, thinking the same thing, but stayed silent.
“Listen, that was a good grab,” he turned to continue walking, and I found my feet moving to follow. Maybe I could let him buy me a bit more to eat before I took off. “If you hadn’t paused, you’d have been free and clear.” He glanced over at me. “So why’d you hesitate?”
I opened my mouth to tell him it washisfault. After all, he’d distracted me. But I couldn’t answer without giving away my Gift, so I only shrugged.
“With a little training, you could be pretty good. You could work for me, if you’re interested. A few small jobs now and then.”
I didn’t miss that he was purposely vague. “Are you going to force me?”
“No.”
No? I stopped walking and when he noticed, he stopped too, turning to face me, waiting. His thoughts didn’t tell me anything, which meant he wasn’t strategizing a way to drag me into it, wasn’t thinking about me at all. Just waiting.
I studied him. Ornate patterns on his long overcoat. Only the rich could afford all that detail. Dark hair that fell in front of his eyes with that five o’clock shadow that made him look just a bit disheveled and one-hundred-percent mysterious. “What is the opening for?” I asked slowly.
“The pay is good, but the job is risky. I can’t tell you unless you agree.”
Risky? What did that even mean? “Well... if you can’t tell me, then I’ll have to say no.”
Tensing, I prepared to run, waiting for the slightest thought of grabbing me. I raised my chin and kept my face clear of my plans.
